OH! no, I quite injaÿ'd the ride enjoyed

Behind wold Dobbin's heavy heels, old

Wi’ Jeäne a-prattlèn at my zide,

Above our peäir o’ spinnèn wheels,

As grey-rin'd ashes’ swaÿèn tops -barked

Did creak in moonlight in the copse,

Above the quiv'rèn grass, a-beät

By wind a-blowèn drough the geät. through the gate

If weary souls did want their sleep,

They had a-zent vor sleep the night;

Vor vo'k that had a call to keep folk

Awake, lik’ us, there still wer light.

An’ He that shut the sleepers’ eyes,

A-waïtèn vor the zun to rise,

Ha’ too much love to let em know

The ling'rèn night did goo so slow.

But if my wife did catch a zight

O’ zome queer pollard,3 or a post,

Poor soul! she took en in her fright it

To be a robber or a ghost.

A two-stump'd withy, wi’ a head, willow

Mus’ be a man wi’ eärms a-spread; arms

An’ foam o’ water, round a rock,

Wer then a drownèn leädy's frock.

Zome staddle stwones to bear a mow, stones for the base of a haystack

Wer dancèn veäries on the lag; fairies

An’ then a snow-white sheeted cow

Could only be, she thought, their flag,

An owl a-vleèn drough the wood flying through

Wer men on watch vor little good;

An’ geätes a slam'd by wind, did goo,

She thought, to let a robber drough.

But after all, she lik'd the zight

O’ cows asleep in glitt'rèn dew;

An’ brooks that gleam'd below the light,

An’ dim vield paths 'ithout a shoe.

An’ gaïly talk'd bezide my ears,

A-laughèn off her needless fears:

Or had the childern uppermost

In mind, instead o’ thief or ghost.

An’ when our house, wi’ open door,

Did rumble hollow round our heads,

She heästen'd up to tother vloor,

To zee the childern in their beds;

An’ vound woone little head awry, one

Wi’ woone a-turn'd toward the sky;

An’ wrung her hands ageän her breast,

A-smilèn at their happy rest.